


Unknown

by prairiecrow



Series: Lethe's Curse [9]
Category: ReBoot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambition, Drunkenness, M/M, Memory Alteration, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megabyte doesn't sleep as most people understand it, and he certainly doesn't dream -- but Bob does, and therein lies a mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Takes place on the world of Lethe, where Bob and Megabyte awoke stripped of their memories, formed an alliance of convenience — and found themselves, one day, profoundly physically changed. 2) Takes place after "Possession" and before Megabyte deposes the Red King. 3) In the Lethe!verse a clear distinction is made between bedmates (sex without deep attachment), lovers (sex + emotional devotion), the engaged, and the married, so when that term is used here it's employed with that specific cultural meaning in mind. 4) A picture of Megabyte and Bob at this point in the chronology: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v189/crowdog66/lethebobmegabyte-1.jpg 5) The picture of Bob and Megabyte, by the incomparable Moonbay, that inspired this story: http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m30cpbzllo1qipih9o1_1280.jpg

"Jus'… gimme a minute," Bob had moaned softly against Megabyte's neck when he was finished, pulling out and letting his full weight come to rest on top of his lover's body; that had been almost four hours ago and he was still nestled between Megabyte's open thighs, having fallen deeply asleep within that minute and hardly stirred since. Propped up on two thick pillows so that he could let his crested head sink comfortably back, Megabyte nevertheless rested his chin on top of the sprite's hair and smiled thinly as he listened to the slow susurration of the warm-blooded mammal's breathing, his arms enclosing the slighter blue body and his clawed hands possessively curved around Bob's completely relaxed left shoulder. Foolish child, to lie so close to a predator and betray absolutely no trace of fear — but then again, this was _Bob_ , who wasn't exactly known for his exceptional common sense or his lack of daring, as the fresh light talon marks that currently scored his back and buttocks could well attest.

Megabyte's suite was silent except for the younger man's unhurried respiration, and dark except for the oil lamp that still burned on the desk in the main room. That desk was covered with several books that Megabyte had been in the midst of reading at his usual lightning pace when Bob, all smiles and slightly unsteady on his feet, had come back from an evening of drinking and dancing and sidled up to him and kissed his temple and murmured five words: "C'mon, m'Lord, come to bed." Not the most eloquent argument imaginable and more than a trace sarcastic, but Bob possessed other, less articulate powers of persuasion: those smiles, for example, so sly and so amorous, or the gliding pressure of his fingers that clearly communicated itself even through Megabyte's armour, or simply the slim power of his freely offered body, so compelling in its organic frailty. The naked beauty of it underneath Megabyte's hands once they were in bed and the slow heat of Bob's hungry laughing kisses — he sometimes got a case of the giggles when he was slightly intoxicated — had effectively counteracted the annoyance of being so rudely interrupted in his work, and when Bob's bold caresses and cajoling words had clearly indicated that he wanted to penetrate Megabyte as a female, Megabyte had decided to permit him the unusual intimacy.

And now he was sleeping the sleep of the just and the mildly drunk and the thoroughly exhausted, and Megabyte was indulgently cradling him and gazing into the middle distance with eyes half-lidded, part of his mind cross-referencing the four books he'd been studying before being lured into a sexual encounter, another part analyzing yet again the complex and ever-shifting political and military factors surrounding the current Red King, and a deeper aspect of his personality responding to Bob's presence with a low unvoiced animal hum of primal contentment. He had long since dismissed any rational concern over that instinctive pleasure — a weakness, surely, in one whose primary motivation was to corrupt and to conquer — as an irrelevant distraction from his ultimate plan, which had included Bob in a fairly prominent role from the beginning. Rationality certainly suggested that the sprite was far too close and should have been eliminated long since… but Megabyte was a creature who relied on intuition as much as mental prowess, and the fact remained that he would personally kill, with the most exquisite tortures that time permitted, anyone who seriously threatened the frustrating, argumentative, annoying, enthralling boy who had shared his bed for the past two and a half months.

The same boy who would stand at his side as both Consort and Champion when he deposed his rival and stepped into his rightful place as the Red King of Omalan. Ah, how Bob had sputtered and protested when he'd been given a hint of his future roles! Not the Champion part, which certainly appealed to his thrill-seeking and self-glorifying nature, but the prospect of… well, actually Megabyte got the feeling that publicly declaring their sexual relationship in front of the entire Domain wasn't what bothered Bob, but rather the prospect of behaving as was expected of Royal Consorts: exquisitely dressed in totally impractical clothing, wearing the pearls that were a traditional mark of the office, serving as a pretty toy to distract a Ruler from the pressing and weighty matters of the State. And while the thought of adorning Bob in gauzy and glorious fabrics that would both display the sprite's body to full advantage and make him seethe with outrage brought a crueler smile to Megabyte's lips, that wasn't his primary intention in bestowing the dual rank on Bob's young shoulders: he felt moved, in that same primal way, to place unequivocal marks of possession and favour on this man, and what better way than to invest him with both the orders customarily closest to the Red King? 

Not that he had any doubt that Bob would fulfill both offices admirably. The sprite possessed unarguable courage and skill in combat, was loyal to a fault, and felt a passion for Megabyte that he was never shy about expressing. No, he'd serve well as both the Domain's foremost warrior and the lover of its Ruler, even if he'd have to be guided and mastered with as firm a hand as Megabyte could —

A swift indrawn breath from the man lying on top of him snapped Megabyte's full attention back to the present moment and instantly reactivated the dormant half of his mind. He did not really sleep as most of Lethe's inhabitants understood the term, and he certainly did not dream: when he required mental rest half of his brain went offline while the other half continued normal processes, and on those very rare occasions when his mind shut down completely he entered a state where cognitive hallucinations played no role whatsoever. But he was well aware of the role such visions played in the lives of most forms of humanoid life on Lethe, of the rich myth and lore that had arisen around the mystery of dreams, and that for the Harvested in particular they were believed to sometimes contain traces of memory related to their past existences. And since taking Bob to his bed he'd watched the surface traces of their passage many times: the hint of a smile, the tightening of silver eyebrows, the twitching of fingers and the blurred words that barely reached softly parted lips. Attempts to wake Bob up to ask systematic questions about the sprite's dreaming experience had been met with incoherence at best and snide irritability at worst, which was really more trouble than it was worth, so now Megabyte simply observed the outward manifestations and catalogued each experience in his eidetic memory.

And he'd seen this particular pattern twice before: the quickened breathing, the scowl, the tightening of Bob's arms around him as the sprite snuggled even closer, turning his face against Megabyte's chest and muttering something brief and incoherent. He looked so troubled that Megabyte burned with curiosity, but he remained silent and merely watched, charting the increase in heart rate and the slight but noticeable change in the sprite's scent as a note of anxiety entering its pleasant musk, along with the drop in skin temperature: all reactions he'd seen many times before in prey animals suddenly aware of a threat, usually none other than Megabyte himself.

But Bob did not fear him half as much as he should, much less this much. No, it must be the prompting of whatever images were playing behind his tightly closed eyes; he was now holding onto Megabyte like grim death, muttering urgently but without any sense whatsoever as tension gathered in his back and neck. "No," he suddenly whined, shaking his head as if in denial: "No! I can't… Dot… shut it down, shut it all…!"

 _Dot_  — it was a nonsense syllable that conveyed no specific meaning to Megabyte, but in hearing it he'd abruptly heard enough. He pricked Bob's skin with the very tips of his claws and spoke in a low but penetrating voice: "Bob… wake up, Guardian…"

A more intense scowl, but Bob's arms wound more tightly around him and his voice took on a different note, almost pleading, lost and fearful and wary: "M'g'byte…?"

 _"Bob."_  A tone of deep and unequivocal command, demanding the complete focus of his listener, along with a more emphatic imprint of his talons. That did the trick: with another sharp intake of breath Bob opened his eyes and raised his head, blinking rapidly and staring straight ahead as if reorienting himself on his surroundings before turning his gaze upward, toward his lover's face.

"Welcome back," Megabyte said with a deliberate edge of mockery. Coddling the boy would only encourage him to dwell on whatever disturbance had visited him in his sleep and would do neither of them any favours.

"Megabyte, what…?" He scanned the room, the familiar furnishings and tapestries, before letting his head fall back onto Megabyte's chest and closing his amber eyes. "I dreamed… I don't know what I dreamed." He winced again, this time with an air of complaint. "Ow. My head…"

Megabyte pitched his voice to a low croon, running his claws of his left hand carefully through the thick locks of the sprite's sleek silver hair. "That's what you get for indulging in too much ale, wouldn't you say? Go back to sleep, Bob." He curved his hand around the nape of Bob's neck and left it there, sheltering his far-too-vulnerable spine. "You'll feel better in the morning, you have my word."

Bob mumbled something that might have been _Liar_  and might have been _Love you_ , but he was already almost asleep again and Megabyte didn't feel particularly inclined to demand clarification. He closed his eyes in turn and reflected, just before he turned his own mind back to contemplating the problem of the Red King and the glories of his own future, that either statement would have been equally true, and that both suited his purposes when it came to this man who might well, in another life whose memories had been washed away by the River of Oblivion, have been his deadly enemy but who was now an utterly essential aspect of the shape of things to come.

THE END


End file.
